Troubled Times
by jadesunset
Summary: (Set after HTTYD 2) The island of Berk has encountered many challenges since the fall of their Chief, Stoic the Vast. What lies ahead will test the strength of the tribe. A harsh winter and poor supplies has left the village on the brink of collapse. As Hiccup is forced to leave his home to seek help, the vulnerable island is attacked and must fight to survive.


The stale air within the Great Hall was sickening and unfortunately becoming familiar to Astrid. Although it had once been a refuge for her and her fellow tribesmen, filled with the scent of roasted meats and brewed mead, the large room had become a prison of sorts in the recent weeks. The room's occupants were free to leave this space, but most felt that leaving was not an option and reluctantly chose to stay. The alternatives were to return to their own empty homes or to wander outside…either way, they were choosing to risk hypothermia and ultimately death. Besides the minimal insolation from the building's heavy doors, many felt it was wise to stay near the rations to ensure their families received their daily allotments of dry bread and salted yak.

Tired and cold, Astrid glanced to the fire pit to confirm her suspicions: the flames were dying out again. Stifling a sigh, she rose from her stool to find any kind of kindling that may have been missed in the storeroom. As she stood, a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. Astrid turned to face Gobber, whose grey complexion reflected her own exhaustion. "I'll see what I can find, lass…you stay 'ere and try to keep the embers alight". Before she could argue, Gobber hobbled towards his destination. Astrid sat back down as she watched him depart, strangely envious of his opportunity to leave the room for even a few moments. But she understood his rationale; she saw how the eyes of the clan fell on her anytime she moved.

Before Hiccup left to seek supplies from the South, he had appointed her as the interim chief. The decision was fairly well received, though there was naturally opposition from the Jorgensen house. While Astrid was the Chief's betrothed, some traditionalists argued that the role should ultimately fall within the bloodline. Without an heir apparent, it was difficult to argue Astrid's claim. The solution: Hiccup's designation would stand for one Moon. This would give ample time for his return, even if he were delayed. If he could not return by that time, for whatever reason, then Spitelout would step in as the interim and, if necessary, permanent Chief.

As she agitated the waning fire, Astrid looked around the room at her fellow villagers. Most were seated on the floor or at the remaining tables that had not been broken down for firewood. Families huddled together for warmth. Restless children alternated between running through the hall and pleading to their parents for more food. Friends sat close and held quiet, somber conversations. Although she couldn't hear what exactly was being whispered, Astrid knew their fears: they would not survive much longer unless something changed.

A loud _crack_ suddenly filled the room, sending all eyes to the front of the hall. Astrid shot up to her feet, swiftly walking towards the large wooden door. The exterior brace had been lifted, and two men pushed the interior lock aside. As the door slowly opened, Astrid anxiously looked for the freckled face and warm green eyes she had been longing to see…and tried to hide her disappointment when she realized they were not entering the room. Her eyes instead locked with Fishlegs, who awkwardly squeezed through the narrow space he created between the door and its frame. Although he could have pushed the door further open, he was making an effort to let in as little of the cold as possible. He then turned and shoved the door shut before locking it in place. Astrid forced a gentle smile to her friend, who returned it with a half-hearted grin. Despite the thick furs he wore, which were now drenched from the snowfall, the blue hue of his chapped lips highlighted the hostile environment engulfing their village. The pair silently returned to the fire pit, where Gobber was attempting to strengthen the flames. Astrid noticed that the stool she had been using was missing, then noted its shattered remains in the pit. As Fishlegs peeled the wet cloak from his broad frame, he nervously rubbed his fingers together. Astrid had known him since they were very young, and recognized his hesitation. Even though the 20-year-old man was one of the largest members of his tribe, he still possessed the same timid nature he had carried all his life.

Audibly exhaling, Fishlegs turned to face Astrid. "They aren't here." He said flatly. "I checked everywhere obvious…the stables, the Academy, the cove…and even areas I have never seen them before. No tracks, no fish bones. " Astrid's face dropped, but kept her composure. Fishlegs eyes lined with tears, but none fell as he spoke. "I left a mound of small boulders for Meatlug on our porch last week…in case she came home. She didn't touch them, Astrid. She was never there." Astrid extended her hand to her friend's arm, understanding his pain. After a moment of silence, Fishlegs looked at Astrid, who kept her gaze on the ground. "I, um…I take it Hiccup didn't come back" he muttered, watching Astrid's expression. As her expression shifted, he quickly followed up "Yet. He hasn't come back _yet_. He will though". Astrid couldn't help but expel a soft scoff. "Yeah, he will. I was just a lot more certain of that three weeks ago." Both were silent as they took in the gravity of their situation. Their dragons were gone. Their Chief was missing. Their village was frozen and its people were starving.


End file.
